


In the Oven

by thedevianthunter



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Baby making, Couch Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Married Life, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 20:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17432789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevianthunter/pseuds/thedevianthunter
Summary: Based on the tweet "my wife's in the kitchen, wine-drunk, making cookies while topless. being married is dope."





	In the Oven

Captain Allen emerges from the bathroom with a yawn for the third time that evening. He really should have taken it easy with the wine, but it’s been a while since his last weekend off and he refuses to waste a second of these rare moments of peace.

He rounds the corner of the hallway and halts at the kitchen entrance when he catches sight of the ethereal goddess currently dumping a generous measuring cup full of sugar into a large mixing bowl.

Nothing out of the ordinary… excluding the fact that you’re naked from the waist up, of course.

Allen licks his lips, his mouth suddenly very dry. He approaches you slowly, eyes darting between your beautiful, flushed face to those perky tits of yours that he’d happily die smothered in.

“Dave!” you greet when he gets close enough for you to notice, your voice several decibels too high for what should be a quiet night in. He supposes that has mostly to do with the glasses of wine the two of you shared over dinner and television, which you only ever do on these sporadic days off.

You don’t stop whisking what he assumes is soon-to-be cookie dough as he situates himself right behind you. He watches you work fondly over your shoulder, and he playfully reaches under your arms to cup your breasts.

“Excuse you,” you admonish him, casting him a cheeky grin that he returns.

“Yes?” he inquires teasingly, squeezing the warm mounds in each hand. You let out a soft, pleased sigh and he squeezes harder.

“Mmm. Wait, let me finish making these first.”

“Why are you even making cookies this late, love?”

“You said you wanted dessert!” you reply excitedly, turning around in his arms to press a kiss on his nose. Allen blinks, dumbfounded, before his face flushes a pretty shade of pink that makes you kiss him again.

“You didn’t have to—" he begins, but you’re already shoving him away.

“I’m already making them! Now shoo.” You wave him off, brandishing a whisk in his face that barely misses his chin, and he has no choice but to raise his hands in surrender and concede.

Still, he's not about to just _leave_ you in the kitchen, especially when you’re all over the place, your breasts bouncing at each abrupt movement.

Thinking to himself that he must be the luckiest man alive, he settles on one of the stools at the breakfast bar and simply watches you.

Allen's last major relationship ended when his ex-fiancé had called him up one day to cancel their wedding. They had been in a long distance relationship at the time while he attended police academy in Detroit, and he was only a few days from graduating when she dropped the news. Ever since then he’d sworn off relationships altogether.

Then you came along and suddenly, he was more than willing to risk it all—his heart, sanity, _everything_ he promised himself he would never give to another person again—just to see your smile in the morning and before you both drifted off to sleep at night.

These amusing moments are simply a perk. However, married life isn’t always a walk in the park. The two of you have had your fair share of arguments and fights that end with steely silences that sometimes last until the next morning. It doesn’t usually, though; Allen is proud but he’s never above apologizing when he’s in the wrong. More often than not, he returns to bed, after coldly insisting he sleep on the couch, and crawls in beside you with whispered apologies that you quickly accept.

Fights don’t last very long between you two, especially when you can never tell which day will be your final one together. In such a high-risk profession, Allen doesn’t take the time he has with you for granted.

“It’ll be done in about twelve minutes,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he wordlessly opens his arms for you. Grinning, you throw yourself into his chest, sighing blissfully as he holds you close. “What do you wanna do while waiting, honey?”

He hums in deliberation and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Personally, he’s content to just hold you like this for however long you let him.

You seem to have other ideas, though.

He suddenly feels your feather-light touches on the front of his boxer-briefs and he lets out a surprised laugh.

“Hey, what’re you doing?”

“We can get another thing in the oven in twelve minutes, don’t you think?”

Fuck. _Fuck_. How can you possibly be more seductive than you already were making chocolate chip cookies while topless?

Before he can even try to come up with a response, you’re already coaxing him to his feet and dragging him towards the living room, where you push him backwards onto the couch. Without preamble, you tug his boxer briefs off, exposing his hardening member.

“ _Jesus_ , woman, you’re something else,” Allen mutters as his face turns an even darker shade of red.

Beaming triumphantly, you toss your own bottoms to the side, leaving you completely nude. Your husband swallows at the sight and you notice that his cock twitches when you straddle his thighs.

“Better put a baby in me, Captain, or else you won’t be getting any cookies tonight.”

Allen curses breathlessly when you unceremoniously guide the head of his cock to your soaked slit. You bite your lip as you sink down and take more and more of him in until he’s completely engulfed by your burning heat.

He throws his head back while you adjust. “Fuck...fuck...”

Gritting his teeth while he focuses on not flipping your positions so he can fuck you into the cushions like he wants to, Allen begins kneading your breasts. He pinches your nipples and you gasp, which results in him sitting up to take a hardening nub in his mouth. You clench around him in response and he growls. His hands grip your waist possessively, his blue irises barely visible around his dark, dilated pupils.

You begin to rock your hips and he lets out a grunt. He’s never been very vocal, unfortunately, but you’ve made it your personal goal to change that fact.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you lift yourself until just the tip of his cock is inside you before slamming back down. Allen groans quietly and eagerly matches your pace, each time burying himself to the hilt and driving you fucking _crazy_.

“Dave,” you babble as he takes control, holding you in place and furiously thrusting upwards and into you, “Dave, _fuck_!”

“You’re so good,” he whispers breathlessly into your ear, pressing desperate kisses along your jawline, your clavicle, every inch of skin he can reach while he continues to fuck you senseless. “So good for me.”

You cry out as he hits _that_ particular toe-curling spot. “I— _fuck_! I _love_ you, Dave.”

“ _I love you, too._ ” And with that, he grabs the back of your neck and hauls you towards him for a sloppy, passionate kiss. Your teeth clank together but you don’t mind. You can’t think, too stimulated by Allen’s dick inside of you and his tongue ravaging your mouth.

He moans your name against your lips and you can tell he’s close. You pull away, your lips swollen, and throw your arms around his neck as you fall to your back, taking him with you.

He slips out at the sudden movement but wastes no time repositioning himself between your legs and thrusting back in. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slams his hips against yours, hitting your cervix again and again.

Allen’s body blankets yours and you love the feeling of being surrounded by him, of being _filled_ by him. You coo words of encouragement in his ear, assuring him that he’s doing so well, that you can’t possibly think of anything better than having his cock buried inside of you and he _moans_ , eating your words right up.

_“Put a baby in me, Dave.”_

You don’t have to tell him twice. With a loud, almost _pornographic_ groan that has you gawking at him in surprise, Allen comes.

Quite a bit, too, you realize. His dick twitches inside of you, pumping out his seed in hot bursts. You rub Allen’s back as he comes down from his high and press absentminded kisses along his neck.

“That’ll be done in about nine months,” he mumbles as he pushes himself off you, wincing as his dick slips out. He watches in fascination as his cum oozes out of your slit and pushes it back in with his index finger. Can’t afford to waste the batter, after all.

Before he can suggest to get you off, the oven timer lets out a loud _beep_.

You’re on your feet in an instant, and he almost trips over the coffee table trying to race you to the kitchen before you can burn yourself or your wonderful tits while grabbing the baking sheet.

As Allen struggles to pry the oven mitts from your hands, he thinks to himself that, without a doubt, married life fucking _rocks_.

**Author's Note:**

> I got pulled into the RDR2 craze but I guess I can never tire of Daddy Allen even though the fandom isn't as active as when I first joined bahaha.


End file.
